Two Nouns

By DSA

Reload- old. 1+2 Shonen-Ai. Heero gets hurt by a comment that Duo made about Heero being the "Perfect Soldier" as he had thought Duo known him better- yet with that proved Duo thought of him no differently than the others. He goes on a mission to relieve his stress and hurt... except after an explosion rocks his hotel room, everyone thinks he is dead.

If misunderstood was a noun, that was him. And it was all Duo's fault. Or at least, that was what Heero privately thought, even if he didn't voice it. All it took, was a silly stupid joke, uttered aloud at, of all places, at the gathering of new recruits, and so that had caught on immediately with the crowd and flew like wild fire across the Preventers office headquarters- and later, he had found, out to the more distant branches- to even the Artic and the Antarctica regions, as well as the far flung L5 Colony clusters.

"The Perfect Soldier" in-fucking-deed.

Granted, as much as Heero would have liked to have pounded Duo into the ground for the label, Duo had not intended for the audience to have heard him, but his voice had drifted down from the backstage to the all too sensitive microphone out the front- which subsequently broadcasted Duo as he complained to Quatre that Heero too much "The Perfect Soldier" he was, with a capital "T, P and S"- quote.
Heero, standing near the back of the crowd, had not only been angered by Duo's loose words.

He had been hurt.

He had thought Duo was his friend. It had been more than the sarcasm in Duo's voice- although that had been painful to hear as well- but the mere phrasing indicated Duo had understood him less than he had thought.
Heero knew himself to be hardly perfect. He had flaws, like everyone did.

But he had a face that was a hardened mask so that no one ever saw his emotions.

He couldn't help it. His facial muscles had, due to lack of use during his training period- and later on too, frozen so much so that he could hardly bring himself to express anything other than the faintest of expressions. Hell, his vocal cords were also so weird that when he laughed, with his face stone-like, everyone around him always shuddered. So he stopped laughing, even when he was amused. Gradually, everything began to build on his lack of expression, until Heero found himself hammered in socially by it. He could not, for the life of him, get anyone to relax around him, and hence he had literally no friends, but Duo and Trowa- who were the only two out of his comrades who could laugh with him, even if he was silent.

Or so he thought.

He had invited Duo to spar after the gathering, and Duo, perhaps not knowing the depths of his seething anger, had accepted with a laugh. Heero literally had wiped the dojo floor with Duo face, but after their fight, he suspected he still was the loser.

Because unlike Duo, who gathered a crowd of concerned friends when he appeared the next day with bruises all around, Heero had no supporters to back him up against the various scowls and glares he gathered from the very same circle. Trowa appeared in the office two weeks later, surfacing from his cover briefly to report in. It was only then Heero got any relief, because along with Trowa's appearance, came a new mission. Which was thankfully solo.

With solo missions, came great responsibility and risk. He didn't mind the two. The more riskier it was, the more he found himself enjoying the work.

It was like dancing with death. His death.

It was only in missions alone he could do so. If he was with Duo, he knew he would never be allowed to follow through on many of the actions he took. Duo, despite his seemingly reckless behaviour, was a cautious agent who weighted the pros and cons of all moves before he took a course. It only didn't seem like it, because Duo was a fast thinker who did calculations in a flash. Heero, on the other hand, relied on his instincts. For some reason, since all his abrupt guesses seem to pan out in the end, he had been saddled with a perfect record.

"The Perfect Soldier".

He scowled at reminding echo of Duo's voice in his head. He hurriedly assembled the gun he had laid out on his bed and cleaned, snapping the parts into place with a little more force than what was required.

Fuck them all, he thought angrily, even thought he knew he would never voice his anger. And fuck you most of all, Duo Maxwell!

He slipped his gun into his hidden back holster, and opened the window of the hotel room he was in. Heero took in shuddering breath of the cold night air, needing to cool his thoughts. In the morning, the mission would end. All the data needed had already been sent to Trowa. He would have to return back to the Preventers office to fill up required documents and write his quota of reports. The night's stay at the hotel was only a half hearted attempt to delay the inevitable.

He didn't want to go back. The two weeks out of the office had given him space away from Duo. He didn't want to see the cheery American again.

There was a wide ledge outside the window, Heero noted. He glanced out at the half moon in the cloudy semi-speckled skies, and without much thought, Heero decided to swing himself out onto the space. He walked over to the side of the window, not disturbed by the height over the below alley way, and made his way to the corner of the building. A large supporting beam jutted out from the area, shielding his figure from the tiny, poorly lit street on the connecting side. Connected to it, on his side, were two main pipes, and one smaller one. They made their united way down the fourteen floors.

It was cold outside, but most of it was kept out by his jacket. Heero sat down, and dangled his legs over the wide ledge, resting his shoulder against the crevice the beam made with the wall. He stared up at the moon.
Maybe... he thought, he should have taken up the offer the Mars Terraforming project team had offered him before he joined the Preventers. More than being a protector of justice and peace, maybe using his knowledge and becoming a scientist had been more fitting to his loner nature than allowing himself to be a mere faceless agent working for goals he at times, privately, considered too idealistic. Teamwork was not his forte. The growing isolation he felt with most of the others reflected that.

Especially his mistake with Duo.

Heero's back slumped against the wall.

He just wanted to be seen as human too.

An explosion blasted the rows of windows beside him. Glass spat out, along with bloodied lace curtains and broken furniture. Unrecognisable human bits too, flew out the gaping rows of windows. Screams erupted and cries of chaos was heard. Heero's attention was not drawn however to the immediate human crisis. In the instant of the familiar sound of explosions, Heero was up and moving, searching for the source. His eyes narrowed onto a dark figure, barely outlined in the streets as the man strolled casually along. In the crowd that had rapidly formed on the previously deserted street, the man was the only person not gawking at the flames now spitting out from the damaged hotel.

Heero grasped the beam, and using the connected pipes, swung himself down from the ledge he was on. Protected by the square width, no one saw him as he finally dropped the last metre down from the burning hotel, and discretely began to hunt down his prey from behind.

As he tracked the man, more than being high from the sudden rush of adreline in his system, Heero felt giddy from a guilty sense of relief.

He didn't have to go back yet.

But with all his missions, they ended. He brought in nine terrorists, single handed. Heero marched the somewhat bloodied subjects in the Preventer building only a week after the bombing. It had been simple. The group had only just started up, and their experience has been lacking despite their deadly technical knowledge. The one mistake the man he had tracked the night made of staying around for the explosion had cost them dearly.

Initially, there had been more members of the group, but the fire fight they had put up had not allowed Heero to take more than a handful of their group. The leaders had given themselves up only after they had callously thrown their men's lives away without much stragetic thought other to protect themselves from the sudden attack Heero had launched on their base.

Rather than highly trained terrorists, the group had been more like an ill planned gang of hoods.

Bringing them in wasn't much to boast about at all. And yet they were all gawking at him when he appeared. The hairs on the back of his neck pricked as they arched as a shield to the whispering that began, and followed him until he had seen the prisoners off and entered the calm safety of his office.

'Shit... he really is the damn "Perfect Soldier"!'

'Can't believe he came back from the....'

The door clicked closed.

Heero's shoulders slumped.

Now what? The next mission? He was tired. So awfully tired already. He slipped out of his jacket and winched. Blood steeped from his shoulders. He griminced and looked around for the medical kit. He should really visit the medical facilities for the wound, but he hated doctors. A minor graze was something he could easily take care of... what the hell? He blinked. There was a mountain of white flowers on his desk. His covered desk. The furniture in the whole room, for some reason, was covered in black cloth he then noticed.

It must have been fatigue that dulled his sense of smell. Not to mention observation.

The phone began ringing from underneath the black cloth. Heero backed up against the door frame, searching for booby traps. After three quick rings, the phone gave a sharp bleep. The caller had selected to leave an audio message.

'Heero Yuy. I know you are there. Pick up,' Lady Une's cool voice came online.

Heero eyed the flower laden desk with wariness.

'Ignore the flowers and all. It is not a trap, agent zero one. There apparently has been a mistake made. Sorry about your office'

'Hm?' Heero's eyebrow twitched, but he walked over then and took the sheet off his desk by snapping it up and sweeping the material off. The many white roses and carnations were lifted up and scattered across the room.

A card dropped to his feet.

R.I.P.

Heero's eyebrows rose. Then Heero scowled darkly. He snatched at the phone.

'What is this? Some sick prank?' he barked down the phone. 'I'm not dead'

'So it seems now,' Une said dryly. 'Yuy, you have to work on your communication skills a little more.'

'What?'

'We thought you were dead?'

Heero's scowl turned into a puzzled frown.

'But I'm not. Why would you think that?'

'Well Yuy, some contact after the hotel explosion to tell us so would have been appreciated.'

'Oh.' He thought back. He had cleanly forgotten about reporting in during the chase. After the hotel explosion, he had been involved in tracking the men ASAP.

'My apolo-'

The door slammed opened.

'Heero fucking Yuy! You damn cunt!' came a roar.

'Maxwell,' he nodded to the red faced, panting long hair man in his doorway and turned his back on Duo. His partner was someone he did not particularly wish to see at the moment.

'I do understand, Lady Une. I should have and am sor-' he began.

The phone was torn out of his hand and slammed down. He scowled at Duo. His fingers flexed as if to curl into a fix to hit Duo, but then Heero remembered the glares he got before after he pounded Duo into the ground. The hassle was not worth the satisfaction. He lowered down his hands and took a deep breath.

'Listen to me!' Duo grabbed Heero's wrists and pulled him towards him so that they ended eye to eye.

'Maxwell, let go of me,' Heero growled. 'My ears can hear well enough without you holding me.'

Heero did not attempt to break of the hold, expecting Duo to drop the hold. 'It's "Duo", not "Maxwell".'

To his surprise, Duo did not drop the contact. Heero frowned down at the contact.

'Damnit, look me in the eye, Heero. What the heck is up with you? Did I do something to you? You ignored me completely since that flippin' meeting, and then you don't even to contact me- your partner- when you decide to show up from the dead! Didn't it occur to you that I'd be worried about you?'

'No,' he grunted. If Duo was not going to release him, he was going to break free then strangle his partner. He did not like being touched.

'Heero, you're not friggin' perfect!' Duo yelled at Heero.

Heero froze. His eyes flashed up and he fixated a dark glare at Duo's red face.

'Right... so now I'm not?' Heero asked softly, his tone slightly dangerous. 'Wasn't I supposed to be "The Perfect Soldier", as you put it?'

'Hell you are! But so what? You may be the "Perfect Soldier", but that's the problem. You are the most moronic person I know.'

'Huh?' The last insult was unexpected.

'Just look at you! Damn it, you keep on turning up a perfect hero all the time, with your uniform torn and your hair tousled like a movie stars' but really Heero, reality ain't Hollywood, so will you please stop your "Perfect Soldier" antics.'

'...what?'

'Argh! You're bleeding! This is another example. You've haven't gone down to the medics yet, nor do you plan to, do you?'

'Ah. No...'

'You know, you can't keep on doing this. Shess Heero- stop being an action hero... damn, my heart's not going to take much more.'

Suddenly Heero found himself pulled into an embrace. He barely refrained from lashing out at Duo in response, and was just about to warn Duo to not hold him in the manner he was doing. Holding him by the arms was one thing. Full body contact while being hugged tightly was another. Heero had never, in his whole life, been as close with a person as he became with Duo. It felt damn strange. Nothing like he had ever experience.

Although, to his surprise, it did feel unusually good, his sense of space protested against the unaccustomed warmth. He shifted stance and made to push Duo aside. But it was then he felt Duo shaking against him. The faint ripples sparked a strange emotion in him. Without Heero knowing why, his urge to move away deceased.

'I thought you were dead, Heero, fucking dead. You have... no idea... absolutely no idea, how... that made me feel, do you? Shit, you know, just one call would have been enough? Don't you trust me to guard your back at all? You always seem to go about things alone. You don't talk. You just act. But I can't understand that. Shit, I tried, but I can't read you friggin' mind. I can't understand you when you go about and be that mighty "Perfect Soldier" that you are. Why don't you talk to me about anything? I thought.... I thought we were friends, you know? Partners! But you just never talk about anything with me! Heero... why are you so damn cold? Do you even trust anyone at all? I worry about you.'

The words Duo spoke sent Heero reeling.

'What's there to worry about?'

'Too many things, Heero,' Duo groaned out. 'Damn it, I really wish you would see it, but you're not "The Perfect Soldier", Heero. And it's frustrating to see you act the way. Why can't you see that you're human? You bleed the same as me. You're not Mr. Invincible, man. For god's sake... I thought you were dead.... I thought you were....'

Duo buried his face against Heero stiffened shoulders.

'But you're here. Warm... bloody and stinky. I can't believe it. Hell, I really can't...' an odd sound, half between a cough and a sob came out from Duo.

Heero's mind stopped, unable to compute the huge load of information that was suddenly dumped on the top of his head.

'Are you crying?'

'No! I'm being pissed off at you because you're a fucking mute bastard and it's making me hiccup'

'Oh.'

He thought back to Une's complaint. Maybe she was right.

'Duo,' he said softly. He awkwardly returned Duo's tight hug. 'It seems,' Heero said carefully, 'that we have some communication problems....'

Duo fell into Heero embrace.

If misunderstood was a noun.

'No fucking duh!'

...there'd be two misunderstoods standing in the room, Heero surmised with a tiny smile.

Fin.